


Hybrid

by janescott



Series: Hybrid [1]
Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, RPF, Science-Ficiton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-03
Updated: 2010-06-03
Packaged: 2017-10-09 21:36:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/91857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janescott/pseuds/janescott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: AU. For the ]ai_kinkmeme prompt: Kradam, "Sex is on Fire" SciFi AU. Adam is a human/alien half breed, kept in a back room of a seedy nightclub and sold for sex. Kris is a privileged student visiting the underworld. He has no idea that the city's darker legends are actually real life practices. Keeping a half breed is illegal because sex with them is like a drug hit. Only its Adam that they have to keep drugged to keep him there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hybrid

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Nothing herein belongs to me. I'm just taking the action figures out for a while. :)  
> A/N: I started this story in September last year; before I even knew Avatar existed, so the fact that my aliens are blue? Coincidence - lol. Also - this work is complete. I have no idea how to change the "Part 1 of the Hybrid series" bit, but it is complete. :D

Kris, Matt, Danny and Anoop pile out of the limo when it pulls up in front of Fuse. There's a queue to get into the latest hotspot, but the four young men ignore it and go straight into the club.

There are some names that open any doors, right or wrong, and Allen is one of the biggest.

It's still early, and the club is relatively quiet. The club manager, Ryan, sees who has just come in, leaves his place at the bar and silently leads them to a booth. "Celebrating?" he asks, as he crooks a finger at a waitress to come and take their order.

Matt claps Kris on the back and says, "It's Kris' 21st, and he's home from school for the weekend. So we want something … memorable for him," he says, leaning back in the booth. Kris, sitting between Matt and the wall pulls a face as Anoop and Danny laugh. "Yeah," Danny says, "Something special."

Ryan's face doesn't change. "Of course," he says, "Let me see what I can do."

Matt gives their drink order to the waitress and turns back to Kris, his excitement palpable. Kris isn't sure he wants to know what Matt and the others have planned, but he says "Okay, what is it? You've been secretive about this for days."

Anoop leans across the booth and whispers, "Dude … they have Hybrids here." Kris stares at him in confusion. "Yeah, I know. I can see a couple. There were some in line to get in, too. That's not really news, Anoop."

Anoop shakes his head. "You're not understanding me, Kris. They have Hybrids here. For …"

Kris' eyes widen as he realises the implication. "What? I thought that was a myth! Besides," he realises he's starting to shout and lowers his voice: "Besides, that's illegal!" Kris looks at his friends and something dawns on him. "No. Oh, no. This is your idea of a birthday present?? Hook me up with an illegal Hybrid? Are you fucking crazy? What if – what if I get caught? What if I get _hooked_?"

Across the table Danny picks up the beer and shrugs. "You're an Allen. Even if you get caught, nothing's going to happen to you. And if you get hooked, your family will either buy you a Hybrid so you can get your fix anytime you like, or hustle you into rehab."

Matt nudges Kris in the shoulder. "Admit it. Underneath all of your moral posturing, you're curious. What it's like. We all are. I mean – the Hybrids are everywhere now, but since sex with them was outlawed ten years ago, all we have left is curiosity. And we all want to know what it's like. We knew you'd never do this for yourself, so we pooled our resources." He raises his beer bottle and clinks it against Kris'. "Happy 21st," he says, before motioning Ryan back over.

"Everything's in place. If Mr. Allen will come with me ..." Matt scoots out of the booth and basically drags Kris out after him. "Go on, birthday boy. Have one on us. Oh, one more thing ..." Matt reaches into Kris' back pocket, and grabs his wallet. Before Kris can protest, Matt has snagged a credit card and handed it to Ryan. "Mr. Allen's friends' drinks are on him for the rest of the night," he says, with an innocent smile.

Kris shrugs and says, "That's fine." He also realises that Matt's right: he's curious about what it's like to … be … with a Hybrid. He'd never thought about it much before, but now that he's here … when Ryan says, "If you'll follow me, Mr. Allen?" he does, deciding to suspend thought – just for tonight.

Ryan leads him down a flight of stairs, to a hallway with doorways on either side. Kris counts - he thinks – six doors on each side. If all the rooms are used for what he thinks …. 12 Hybrids. Ryan goes to the last door on the left, taking a key out of his pocket, and Kris feels a little sick. "You lock them in?"

"It's for their own protection."

Kris takes a deep breath, and follows Ryan into the room. He's not sure what he expected, but it looks like any other bedroom. The walls and carpet are both the same generic shade of cream, and the covers on the king-sized bed that dominates the room are neutral as well. Kris supposes it's to show off the Hybrid lying on the bed to best effect.

Aliens have been among humans for many years, and full blooded aliens are tall; their limbs long and almost attenuated. They are a deep blue, but Hybrids run the gamut of all shades of the blue spectrum, and the Hybrid on the bed is the pale, almost translucent blue of a winter sky. He turns his head to look at them and Kris unconsciously bites his bottom lip. He doesn't know what he was expecting, but the Hybrid is beautiful. He has wide, blue, kohl-lined eyes, a full mouth and – Kris sneaks a closer look – he's covered in deep blue freckles. At least, as far as Kris can see; he's shirtless but is wearing black jeans.

He turns his gaze to Ryan and Kris wonders if it's possible to ever get used to the diamond-shaped, spinning pupils. He has to blink and look at the floor.

"This is Adam," Ryan says to Kris, giving him a little push towards the bed. Kris trips over his feet and grabs at the covers before perching on the end of the bed. Adam ignores him for now, and says to Ryan in a heavily-accented voice: "Dose."

"Right. Sorry, I almost forgot." Ryan goes to the small table beside the bed and unlocks the drawer in it with another key. He takes out a needle and a small bottle, filled with clear liquid. Adam watches his every move. Slowly, Ryan draws about half the liquid into the needle and turns to Adam, who arches his neck, showing a thick vein. Almost casually, Ryan injects the drug into Adam's neck, then strokes over it with his thumb.

"Okay, Adam, time to work alright?" The Hybrid gives a slow nod and turns back to Kris. "This is Kris. He's very special, so be extra nice, okay?" Adam blinks slowly and nods again. Kris starts to get dizzy when he looks into Adam's eyes and fixes his eyes on the carpet, barely hearing it when Ryan closes the door.

"Uh … can you make your pupils stop spinning? I'm getting dizzy here."

"Sorry. Look now."

Kris looks up and is relieved to see the black diamond-shapes are steady in Adam's eyes. Kris tucks up on the end of the bed, crossing his legs. He says, "I've never done this before so I don't know -"  
Adam reaches out one long arm and says, "Here," drawing Kris to him. Kris crawls up the bed and settles on his knees between Adam's long legs.

Adam lays his thumb on the pulse in the notch at the base of Kris' throat, and Kris closes his eyes, feeling his own heartbeat, which is too loud, and a quieter, faster beat drumming into him from Adam's thumb.

"Oh," Kris whispers, closing his eyes for a minute. It sounds like the best song he's ever heard. He opens his eyes and says, "Do you mind if I ask you something? Your English ..." he trails off, because he can't figure out how to phrase the question without sounding rude.

Adam shrugs. "Raised by … father. Like me. Only … Ba'Ka'Ri at home. English … last six months."

"But you have a human name," Kris says, and curses his curiosity when something flickers in Adam's blue eyes. "I'm … I'm sorry."

Adam traces a path with his thumb across Kris' cheek. "Hour," he says, and at first Kris is confused. "Oh. You mean – I only have an hour?" Adam nods, and Kris shakes his head. "No. I don't think so. Can I contact Ryan?" Adam points at the small table, where Kris sees a button. He pushes it, and a couple of minutes later, Ryan comes in.

"Is there a problem?"

Kris shakes his head, and pulls his wallet out of his pocket again. He shuffles through his remaining credit cards, and pulls out a platinum Visa. "No, no problem. I … I want the rest of the night. With, uh, Adam."

Ryan remains expressionless as he takes Kris' credit card. "Of course. I'll make sure you're not disturbed. What about your friends?" Kris blinks and stares at Ryan for a second. "Just tell them I won't be back out tonight."

"Of course," Ryan says, before closing the door quietly behind him. Kris turns back to Adam, who is studying him intently.

"We don't have to ..." his voice trails off under Adam's scrutiny.

"Dose," Adam says, and Kris frowns in confusion. "But, I saw Ryan give you your Dose …," Adam shakes his head, frustrated that he can't explain himself. He tugs on the waistband of Kris' jeans and says, "Must. Have to."

And Kris gets it, and he kind of wants to throw up. "They withhold your Dose if you don't have sex?" Adam nods, and Kris thinks, "Evil bastards." Get the Hybrids hooked, threaten them with withholding their Doses, and ensure return business, because humans get hooked on sex with aliens very, very quickly. Kris starts to get dizzy again at the thought of it. Then he forgets when Adam curls his long fingers around the back of his neck, and pulls him closer.

Some birthday present, he thinks, as he twines his arms around Adam's neck and does what he's been wanting to do since walking in the room: he kisses him, nipping at his full lower lip before sliding his tongue in, noticing without meaning to that Adam tastes warm, and spicy, and like nothing Kris has ever tasted before. Kris is pretty sure he could spend the rest of his life just kissing Adam and be perfectly happy. Adam strokes the soft skin on the back of his neck, and Kris reluctantly pulls away, biting at Adam's lower lip again.

Kris is as hard as he's ever been in his whole life, and he kind of wants to touch Adam right there, but he's a little afraid of what he might find. Adam watches for a minute, puzzled and looking a little worried. "It's okay. It'll happen. Just. Let me take my time, okay?"

Adam sits back, watching Kris with his strange eyes. And Kris realises just how far out of his depth he is here. It's one thing, he thinks, for your friends to act like assholes and basically buy a prostitute for you for your birthday. It's another thing to be faced with the reality. Especially when that prostitute is a drug-addict Hybrid.

Adam seems to sense a hesitation in Kris and strokes his face with his long pale fingers.

"Let me," he says, and Kris nods, relieved to surrender control. Adam makes short work of Kris' shirt, tossing it on the floor. He tugs at Kris' waistband again, looking at him expectantly and Kris realises he's not going to get his trousers off kneeling on the bed. Standing, he fumbles his shoes and socks off, and his trousers and underwear soon follow. Adam rests one long hand on Kris' ass, and Kris watches as long pale blue fingers curl around his hard, leaking shaft.

"Sit," Adam says in his heavy accent, letting go of Kris for a moment, and Kris gladly collapses on to the bed. Adam gets off the bed, and folds himself between Kris' legs. Kris braces his hands on the bed as Adam begins to swallow Kris' length and – holy shit, Kris thinks, his tongue can't be that long … because Adam has basically spiralled his tongue around Kris' cock and is sliding it through, like a warm,wet tunnel. Kris groans and closes his eyes, so that all there is in the world is Adam's mouth, and tongue, and a long hand stroking what it can of Kris' ass.

Kris tightens his grip on the bed cover, bucks his hips as a kind of warning, and comes, hard and needy and he's grunting out, "Oh, fuck … oh oh …." as Adam sucks the last drops from him. Kris collapses on the bed and feels a light pressure when Adam sits down beside him. He's still wearing his jeans, Kris notices when he turns his head, which seems slightly ludicrous now and – Kris leans in a little closer. Yes. There's a definite bulge there, and this is where things could get tricky.

Adam blowing him won't do Kris much harm. The addictive substance – for humans – is in the aliens and Hybrids' sexual fluids. If Kris gets one taste of Adam, he'll basically be just another junkie. Kris debates the wisdom of such an action for about five seconds. But. There's something about Adam that he … likes. Kris sits up and says, "Do you like working here?"

Adam stares at him, frowning and confused. He turns to look at the little table, and back at Kris. "Oh." It's got nothing to do with like or dislike. Kris gets the feeling that Adam wouldn't care where he worked as long as there was someone to give him his Dose. Kris sighs, and runs his hands through his hair. Then he thinks, fuck it. I'll call Dad after this.

"Never mind," he says. "Just. Take your trousers off, okay?" And this is something that Adam can understand. He strips his trousers off, and lays back on the bed. Kris is momentarily distracted by how similar Adam's cock is to his own – except for the size of course – it's wider, and longer, and it's pale blue – but otherwise much the same. Hesitantly, Kris traces a pattern up the hard length with his fingers, slicking the tip of his thumb in the fluid leaking from the tip. Deliberately, looking Adam in the eye, Kris brings his thumb to his mouth, and licks the fluid off. Kris closes his eyes as he sucks on the thumb and the only reason he doesn't bite it off is because Adam gently pulls it out of his mouth.

"Oh," Kris says. "Please." And Adam rolls him on to his back, sliding his long fingers into his own mouth, and that was the other trouble with alien-Hybrid/human sex: the aliens and the Hybrids made their own natural lubricant with their saliva, which works so much better than any human-made brand that some Hybrids are harvested just for that.

Kris groans, and arches his hips as he watches Adam's fingers disappear into his mouth. He's barely aware of himself whispering, "Please …" again, as Adam carefully slides the fingers in to Kris one at a time, concentrating on opening him up. By the time Adam slides his cock in, Kris is a goner; he's addicted. He wraps his legs around Adam's, he tangles his hands in Adam's hair and pulls him down into a deep, long kiss. Adam pulls back just long enough for Kris to recognise the question in his eyes.

"Yes … God … yes … come …" and Adam pushes into him and comes, hard; as Kris strokes himself to his second orgasm. They lie there for a while, until Adam pulls out and lies down on the bed. Kris gets his breath back, and leans over the bed to grab his trousers. He pulls his phone out of his back pocket, and dials his father's number.

As he waits for his father to answer it, he twines his fingers through Adam's, who's looking at him with that questioning look again. And Kris kind of hates himself for what he's about to do, but Danny was right: it's either this, or rehab now.

"Dad? You know how you said you didn't know what to get me for my birthday …."

 

  
**Part 2**   


Dose.

It's the first English word I learned, six months ago, when my father sold me. Ryan said – I must try to think in English, that the words will come easier. So I try.

Dose.

Dose is easy. I can understand Dose. I know what it is.

My father injected me the first time, when I came of age. He whispered the word to me in Ba'Ka'Ri as he slid the needle into my neck. (A'kri-na).

I learned the English word from Ryan, when he said I had to ask for what I wanted in English.

Dose. As far as I'm concerned, it's the only English word I need to know. But Ryan insists I learn more words.

"For the clients," he tells me, leading me to the room that's going to be my – home – is that the word? For the next six months. This is nothing new to me. My father has been … is it renting? Me to men since I came of age. He sold me to Ryan to clear a debt, and my world shrinks to one room.

One room. Ryan. Men, and women. Dose.

Until. I'm not expecting my, my world to be tipped upside down. I'm – happy is not the human word that I want. Content? No. It's – better than before (sur'huma). The club is better than my father's house. But I don't know the English word for that. I could ask Ryan, but he withholds Doses if I ask too many questions. He _did_, I correct myself as I watch Kris negotiate with Ryan for me.

I pull on my (sha'ha) no – trousers – and sit back on the bed, waiting. Kris is dressing while he talks on his phone to his father about me, and then he's sitting down beside me again. He reaches out and takes my hand, stroking a finger over the joins. One .. two … three. I count in English as he strokes them over and over again.

"We're waiting for my Dad to get here," he tells me, and I wonder why. Either I stay here with Ryan, or I go with Kris. I think maybe going with Kris will be – (sur'huma) - better than before. I sit, my hand in Kris' and we wait. Ryan stays in the room, leaning against the wall.

Kris' father comes in, led by one of the waiters, and says, "Are you sure about this, Kris? I could kill your friends for this you know ..."

"Dad – it's okay. I want this. I do. Please ..."

His father comes over to the bed, and Kris lets go of my hand, and stands up. He wraps his arms around his father who says, "Are you sure? If you're sure ..." and I wonder what the English word is for what I'm feeling now. It's something Kris has that I want – (pas'kina-oh) - envy?

"I'm sure, Dad."

And then things happen very quickly. Kris' father talks to Ryan and their voices are quiet, but intense. Kris sits down beside me again, and we – (xha'sxi) – wait. That's the word. Then Kris is asking me if I have anything I want to take away with me. I stare, blank, then remember.

"Dose," I say. It's the only thing I can think of.

Ryan unlocks the table and hands the little bottle and the needle to Kris. I watch, but he just tucks the bottle into his pocket and tosses the needle in the trash. I look down, then look up. "Don't worry," Kris says, his voice (she'hari) no – gentle – "We'll get you new needles."

"Go out the back way," Ryan says. "I'll make sure your friends enjoy the rest of their night."

And we're gone.

There's a car in the – alleyway and I'm getting a headache. As we're getting in the car I turn to Kris and say - "My eyes -" meaning that keeping my pupils still is getting too much for me. He's leaning against the back of the – seat, and he turns his head to me and says, "It's fine. Let 'em roll. I'm gonna try and get some sleep."

Relieved, I unlock my pupils and settle back. The world refracts again, like it's supposed to and I feel like I can relax. Kris shifts in his sleep on the other side of the car, and I know it's the (rhya'mor) withdrawal getting to him. I reach out and pull him over to my side of the car, wrapping an arm around him and sliding my hand under his shirt. It'll help. For a little while.

We stop at an all night – pharmacy, where the driver stocks up on needles for me. There's a doctor there, who hands the driver a box that clatters and my eyes go to it. Dose. The driver puts the bag of needles and the box of my Dose in the trunk of the car, and we're driving again.

We pull in at a tall building, the car driving into the underground car park. I nudge Kris awake, still my pupils and look into his eyes when they open. He's on the edge. "What -" he says, muffled.

"We're – here."

"Oh. Okay."

I open the door and he puts his hand on my back, stroking the double knots of my spinal chords.

"This way," he says, heading for a – an elevator. We go to the top floor, and he's tugging me towards a room at the back. I register "big" about the apartment and realise it must take up the whole top floor.

"I'm sorry .. I need ..." he's saying raggedly as we stumble into a bedroom and he shuts the door, backing me into it.

I don't understand most of what's gone on tonight, but I understand this. In the morning, I'm going to be the same way. "Hish'mba," I whisper as he reaches up to kiss me. "It's alright."

"Oh … is that -"

"Ba'Ka'Ri. Yes," I say, as I back him towards the bed. His pupils are huge now, and he's riding the edge of desperation. I lock my eyes as he starts pulling at his clothes, and mine, and he says, "Talk to me some more. I've never heard it before."

And oh, that feels good. Talking in my own language that I had to nearly give up for the past six months. I whisper words, fragments, sentences as I lay Kris down on the bed. I whisper in his ear as I enter him slowly, and they both feel good to me. It feels … (sha-ho-ru) "What's that mean?" he asks, dazed, and nearly over the edge; nearly … (bha'no) gone.

"Right," I whisper, before wrapping a hand around his shaft, curling the first joint of my long fingers around it, then wrapping the rest of my hand over that. And before long, he's moaning and (zal'aha) coming, and I thrust up into him once more, and give him what he needs.

I pull out, and collapse on the bed. He crawls up beside me and begins tracing patterns in my – there's no Ba'Ka'Ri word for them. The blue spots.

In the morning, he Doses me himself and asks, "What's the Ba'Ka'Ri word for home?"

As he presses his lips to the vein in my neck I whisper "El'hu'li."

"El'hu'li. You're home."

And I'm – (de'hen'di) - happy.


	2. Hybrid: Withdrawal (ryha'mor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: AU. For the prompt: Kradam, "Sex is on Fire" SciFi AU. Adam is a human/alien half breed, kept in a back room of a seedy nightclub and sold for sex. Kris is a privileged student visiting the underworld. He has no idea that the city's darker legends are actually real life practices. Keeping a half breed is illegal because sex with them is like a drug hit. Only its Adam that they have to keep drugged to keep him there. Thanks to for the beta :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Nothing herein belongs to me  
> A/N: Implied, off-page non-con in this part

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Kris asks Adam. He's getting ready for a night out with his friends – his first since his birthday, when his world did a 360. Not that he minds, Kris thinks, glancing at Adam lying on the bed, reading a book in Ba'Ka'Ri.

Kris can't meet his eyes when they're not locked, they still make him dizzy, but the only way Adam can read in his own language is if he lets them spin. He locks them, looks up at Kris and shakes his head.

"No," he says in his slow, considered voice.

"Do you want me to stay with you? Because I don't have to go out ..." Kris trails off as Adam reaches out a long arm, drawing him on to the bed. They fit easily together; an intimacy borne out of their addictions, but also – Kris likes to think – something else. Adam carefully puts his book down on the bed beside him, and it's something that sort of amuses Kris. Adam has so few things he can call his own that he treats them all as though they were the last measure of Dose in the world.

Kris settles himself, leaning back against Adam's torso. Adam's long, pale blue arms wrap around him, and he slides his hands under Kris's shirt, stroking the skin.

"Go," he says softly into Kris's ear. "I will be … alright."

"Hmmm … do you want me to Dose you now, or later? I don't know how late we'll be out ..."

Adam starts sliding Kris's shirt up. "Adam … I don't know if we have time ..." but his protest sounds feeble at best, and when Adam whispers, "This first," pulling his shirt over his head and discarding it on the floor, his objections fall away completely.

Kris feels boneless and loose after, not wanting to move. His legs are tangled with Adam's and he has his hand on Adam's chest, fascinated at the contrast between their skin tones, feeling Adam's heartbeat – faster than his, like it's racing its way out of his chest. Adam is lazily stroking his back, seemingly content, but little shifts betray him.

His legs move, and he starts drumming on the bed with his free hand. Reluctantly, Kris untangles himself and prepares Adam's Dose. He presses the needle into Adam's neck, and flicks his tongue over the spot before closing his lips around it. Adam arches his neck, his eyes closed. Kris's eyes track the long, pale blue line of his neck for a moment, tempted again to cancel on his friends. But he's canceled on them twice already.

Languidly, Adam pulls the bed covers up over his legs, too lazy to put any clothes back on. Kris ruffles his hands through his hair, making it stick up haphazardly. He catches Adam's mouth in quick kiss, says "I'll try not to be too late," and by the time he fumbles back into his clothes, Adam is reading again.

Kris heads out into the living room, where Matt, Danny and Anoop have helped themselves to his father's stash – all three have glasses of something expensive in their hands.

"Adam not coming?" Matt asks casually and Kris shakes his head. "No. Adam's not coming."

"Huh. Shame."

"Leave it, Matt. I'm surprised we got Kris to agree to go out, seeing as how he's practically been holed up in this penthouse for a month."

Kris stares at Anoop, shocked. A month? Really? "Wow, it has been a month. But I've, we've gone out a couple of times … just -"

"Not with us," Danny finishes for him with his usual tact.

The tension is broken by Matt who slaps Kris on the back and says, cheerfully, "Time flies when you're fucking the alien." There's no answer to that, so Kris tells them, "Finish your drinks and let's go. Driver's waiting."

They head downstairs, Kris asking Danny where they're going – yet another new hot spot, and Kris mentally prepares himself for a night of drinking, and trying to stop Matt from picking up every Hybrid in the place. He's jealous, somehow, of Kris and Adam, although Kris can't work out why.

Kris is pretty sure he's in love with Adam, but sometimes he wonders if it's just the – the (sha'ri-oh) addiction. Sometimes he's tempted to put himself through rehab, just to see if his feelings are real.

Sighing, he shakes off the dark turn his thoughts are taking as they all take a table at the club, the name of which Kris can't remember. He picks up the glass Matt has just put down in front of him and sculls the contents. He chokes a little, realising that Matt has ordered some kind of Hybrid cocktail and those drinks are strong.

"Slow down there, Kris," Anoop says, patting him on the back. "The night is young."

All Kris can do is nod, and steal Danny's water. He feels the (ah'zu-bha) burn of the alcohol in his stomach, cooled momentarily by the water. After that, the night starts to lose its edges and blur into sound, and motion. He dances, he thinks, and there's a girl hanging off his arm that he can't seem to shake. Matt is chatting up a pretty Hybrid at the bar and Anoop and Danny are trading shots at their table and laughing.

When his phone starts ringing, it takes him a couple of minutes to shake off the girl – she knows who he is and is determined to go home with him. As gently as he can he unlatches her hand from his arm, and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He squints at the display, and realises he's missed at least four messages from - "Dad? What's wrong?"

Kris can barely hear his father, but he catches two words: "It's Adam."

"I'm on my way." He makes some vague excuse to the girl, tells Anoop he'll send the car back for them later, and he's gone.

************************************

  
Something is … wrong.

Kris Doses me, and leaves to go out with his friends. I don't go with them because I have no interest in being looked at like some kind of … (ha'al'ki-ol) experiment in a lab. Kris and I have ventured out a few times in the past month, but we prefer staying in. Staying in is … (sur'ha) better.

I settle back into bed, unlock my eyes, and pick up my book again, slipping easily into the Ba'Ka'Ri symbols on the page. Then. I feel a pain, low down at first, but then it starts sparking through me like an electrical current and I know I'm in trouble.

My eyes lock, and unlock on their own, and the world tilts as I stumble out of bed, looking for … (yi-ha-ro) help. I crash to the floor, and it's more luck than anything else that Kris's father comes home early and hears me.

After that, I don't hear anything else. But when I wake up on Ba'Ka, I know something is horribly wrong. I have never seen my homeworld. My … (ba'hin'ah). I was born on Earth, one of the last legal Hybrids before sex between aliens and humans was outlawed. But I know where I am, with the logic that dreams have.

So I am not surprised when I see my (bhi'zo-ri) father.

We are very high up, at the top of the cliff that overlooked the capital, and I know we are near the Temple of the Ancients. I turn and look at it for a moment, refracting in my eyes, tiny sparks of light flaring off the blue marble. My father is walking down the path towards me. He is taller than me, and darker. My body and brain shout at me to run, but I cannot move. Images flicker in front of me: my father Dosing me for the first time when I was 15; "renting" me to my first client the next day; selling me to Ryan to cover a gambling debt … I want to run. I need to run. I can't move.

I try to tell myself I'm dreaming, I'm just dreaming. I'll wake up, and be back in the penthouse and Kris will be there, and everything will be -

"Adam," he says to me in his deep, accented voice, laying a hand on my arm.

"Bhi-zo-ri," I say, surprised I can speak, my mouth is so dry from fear, and his hand tightens. Apart from my human name – something my mother had insisted on, my father told me once – we speak in Ba'Ka'Ri and other memories crowd in. Memories from when I was child. From when things were good. When he acted like a father to me.

"I'm dreaming," I say to him. "This is the Ba'Ka that you told me about. Before it was destroyed. The temple … the city … they are as I see them in my mind. From your stories"

"As they were," he says softly. "I'm glad the stories I told you painted such vivid pictures. But son … you're not dreaming. Not in the – traditional sense anyway."

I frown, confused for a moment. Then - "You did this to me. You doctored my Dose? How? Why? How did you find me?" And I want to rage, and to scream, and to run, above all, but all I can do is ask why and how.

My father takes his hand off my wrist and looks at the temple for a while, before turning back to me. "Ryan told me where you were. I came looking for you at Fuse. I knew that you wouldn't see me willingly, so I took a job at the pharmacy that the Allens' driver gets your Dose from. I was a scientist, once, remember. The rest was easy."

"I still don't understand – why?"

He looks at me, his pupils spinning and sparking with the light from the suns. "Because. I want you to come back to me."

************************************

Kris scrambles to the reception desk in the private clinic, which is empty. He turns around in time to see his father coming towards him, with a Hybrid, and a human doctor behind him. "Dad – what's going on? What's happened?" Kris can feel the edge of (rhya'mor) withdrawal starting to pull at him, but he focuses as hard as he can on what his father is saying.

He picks up the key points: his father had found Adam collapsed on the floor of their room, already slipping into unconsciousness. And now Adam was here, in a private clinic, in a coma. And Kris's father was saying something to him about withdrawal and maybe they should find another Hybrid - "No!" It comes out a little too loud, and Kris takes a deep breath to try and calm himself down. "Dad, no. I don't want that. Please."

Kris's father closes his eyes for a moment. He knew it was pointless to ask, but he had to try. "Son, are you sure? That means, that means you have to go through withdrawal."

The Hybrid – a nurse Kris realises – comes forward and says, "We can admit him here, Mr Allen. We have private suites set up just for this."

Kris's father turns to the nurse, grateful. "Yes. Please." Kris grips his father's arm, feeling the world start to grey out around him. "Dad," he falters out before nearly collapsing to the floor. He feels his father catch him saying, "I've got you son. I've got you."

When Kris comes fully around, he's in a hospital bed in a quiet room, his father and brother sitting beside him. He struggles to sit up, but reconsiders when his head spins and his stomach tries to crawl out of his throat. The nurse gets to him just in time with a bowl for him to throw up in.

His father strokes his back, rubbing it in small circles like he used to when Kris would get sick s a child. "Better?" his Dad asks softly, and Kris shakes his head and closes his eyes. "Adam," he says quietly. "How's Adam?"

"No change," his father says and Kris sighs, before the dizziness and the pain claim him again.

Kris battles the (rhya'mor) withdrawal for what feels like months as time slips away. The worst of it – and it nearly kills him a couple of times – is over in a week. He remembers, through the filter of pain and nausea, people rushing around, and machines beeping, and his own body betraying his mind's commands to be still.

His father and his brother are there, unfocused and blurry as they move in and out of Kris's room. He hears his doctor talking with his father, about how lucky they are that they can afford the best treatment, because Hybrid withdrawal is often fatal without it.

"It's the harshest withdrawal there is. Incredibly brutal and hard on the body. And without medication … I doubt he would survive."

When Kris can form a sentence, he asks about Adam. His world has shrunk to two things: Adam, and pain.

After a week, he feels (sur'ha) better. Weak, mostly. And fuzzy from the cocktail of drugs the clinic doctors have put him on. But the burning need for Adam has gone. He's too tired to examine the rest of his feelings.

Daniel slips into his room and sits in the chair by his bed. "Hey, how're you feeling?" Kris shifts to sit up, letting Daniel help him, and he leans back against the pillows, studying the needle taped to the back of his hand. "Better," he says quietly. "The pain is gone anyway. How's -" But Daniel is already shaking his head. "There's still no change. He's still in a coma. He's started talking, in Ba'Ka'Ri and there's one word that keeps repeating. The Hybrid nurse told me it means 'father'."

Kris frowns, but he's too weary. "I don't – Adam doesn't talk about him. At all. I don't know."

"Dad's trying to find him. He thinks maybe Adam's asking for him. That it might – help."

Kris nods, slipping back into sleep again. He hears the nurse say to Daniel, "Sleep is the best thing for him at the moment." Kris feels the pressure of Daniel's hand on his for a moment, and then he's asleep.

************************************

I stare at him, watching him refract and reform, and refract. It feels like I am staring at him forever, as time has no meaning here.

"No. No. I will not go back to you."

"You know, you've been in a coma for a week now. I know it doesn't seem like it, here in the dream I created for you, but you have. Which means that Kris has either moved on to another Hybrid, or gone through withdrawal. He doesn't need you anymore. What place do you think you have there now?"

I watch the Temple of the Ancients, and it begins to crumble, tiny pieces of blue marble shattering and spinning. "But -"

"But what? You think he loves you? For yourself, and not what you can give him? Do you think he'll willingly go back to being addicted? For you?"

It's too much, and I feel the cliff under us start to slip away as well. My father turns to me and says, "This is not just your dream," and we are standing on solid ground again, the town square, I think, of th capital city Ba'Kri, where I know my father was born.

"I'm coming to the hospital, and I'm going to offer an exchange: I have the antidote. And in exchange for curing you, I take you back."

I close my eyes at the implication of his words. Dose, yes. But. Men. I think back over the past month, with Kris. Just Kris. Happy. I have been happy. And content. Kris doesn't ask any more of me than he needs to. And the rest of the time … it's easy.

When I open my eyes in the dream, my father is gone.


	3. Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Nothing herein belongs to me  
> A/N: Warning - implied, off-page non-con in this chapter. See part 1 for chapter summary :)

They had no choice. (Really? Isn't there always a choice?)

The words run through Kris's mind every day. No. Choice. Then: Really? Until it feels like there's no room in his head for anything else.

Matt's voice cuts into his reverie: "You okay, man?"

"Um. Yeah. I'm fine."

Matt puts an open beer bottle on the coffee table in front of Kris and collapses beside him on the couch. Kris stares at the bottle for a moment, but it feels too far away to reach.

"Yeah, no. Not buying it," Matt says.

Kris ignores Matt, and shuts his eyes.

It's been a month since Kris was released from the clinic; three weeks since Adam's father had surfaced with an antidote, and a choice that – for Kris – really wasn't much of a choice at all. Either Adam stayed in the coma, or his father administered the antidote and took Adam with him.

What's pressing down on Kris now is what his father had found out about Adam's (bhi-zo-ri) father after he left with Adam. That he had sold him to Ryan and before that – Kris shuts his eyes, but it doesn't help. Images of what Adam must have gone through before keep flashing through his mind. No matter what Kris does, the weight of his guilt doesn't shift. Guilt and heartbreak sit in his stomach like the weight of the world.

Knowing that his feelings for Adam are real, and not just the result of addiction, make everything that much harder. Kris is almost surprised at how empty his life feels now, and how quiet. He keeps looking around for what's missing.

The worst of it is that no one knows where Adam and his father have gone. Once they left the clinic, they just disappeared.

He feels a finger poke him in the side and then a surge of irritation. His brother and friends have set up some kind of Kris-watch roster, like they're afraid he's going to do something stupid, and Matt always insists on talking. And Kris knows that his friends are trying, in their own way, to make up for what happened back on Kris's birthday, their bright idea to take him to Fuse that led to this, but sometimes … "I'm fine, I'm fine. Stop poking me."

"You're not fine. You're wallowing. Talk to me like a normal person."

Sighing, Kris reaches out and picks up the beer bottle. He presses it against his forehead for a second before taking a drink.

"Sorry. I'm still not sleeping. I keep wondering … Adam's father made us promise not to look for them. Threatened to hurt Adam again if we did. And the not knowing – it's driving me crazy."

Matt stares at him for a moment, and relents slightly. "I'm sorry," Matt says softly. "I didn't know that part – about the threats."

Kris jumps up and begins pacing the room. "If you knew-"

"Daniel told me. Well, some of it. He didn't go into detail, but I gather that Adam's father is some kind of asshole?"

Kris laughs at that, but it sounds bitter. "Yeah. You could say that. An asshole with a gambling habit, apparently. Dad found out. He owes big money. And his big scheme for paying it back was to lure Adam back to, to, to work for him. I didn't even know! We were together for a month, and we talked about everything-"

"Not everything, clearly," Matt interrupts, and wishes he'd kept his mouth shut when he sees Kris's eyes. He raises a hand in a placating gesture. "I'm sorry," he says again.

Kris collapses back down on the couch. "No. Not everything. I asked him about his father a couple of times, but he just said he didn't want to talk about it, so I left it alone. I wish I had pushed it. Done something!"

Matt watches him for a moment and remembers how envious he'd been, the few times he'd seen Kris and Adam together. Mostly here at the penthouse, because they were content to stay in, with each other, and didn't seem to need anyone else. It had looked like love to Matt then, rather than addiction. He wonders if telling Kris that now would be helpful. No, he decides, watching as Kris throws himself back on the couch, his eyes on the ceiling. Not much now would be helpful.

**********************************************

A'kri-na (Dose).

My world is shrinking again. My father only speaks Ba'Ka'Ri and it feels like home to me, but the wrong home.

I wake in the clinic, and my (bhi'zo-ri) father is there. I'm disoriented for a moment, because I think that I'm still dreaming. But when he tells me that Kris went home the week before, cured, I know that I am not (rhi-xha'xi) dreaming.

My father stays with me while I recover. He never leaves my room, and I suppose it could look like (bel'shu) love. According to my nurse, my father showed up at the clinic one day, very concerned to hear that his only son was in a coma. He had been away, and had only just heard. He was a scientist, he told them. A biochemist. Could he help? And as they had no idea what had caused the coma, they saw no reason not to let him in.

When I wake from the coma a day or so later, the doctors and nurses are amazed. I hear over and over again what an astonishing man my father must be until I feel I am going to go mad.

The only people who know the truth are my father, and Kris's father. I have no idea what Kris's father told him, but my own father's words from my dream echo in my ears: 'You think he loves you? For yourself, and not what you can give him? Do you think he'll willingly go back to being addicted? For you?' And I don't know the answer.

But then my father Doses me for the first time, and I forget why the question matters. The Dose makes me feel lethargic. Like I'm moving under water. When I ask, my father tells me that he has altered my Dose again, to "make things easier on me".

What he means, I realise when my head clears a little, between the first (A'kri-na) Dose and the second, is that he has really altered it to make me more ...(sar-ko-i) compliant.

After a few days, I am pronounced ready to leave the clinic, and I have nowhere to go but with my father. It is as if the past few months have never happened, and I start to wonder if perhaps Kris was the dream, and I have been with my father the whole time. He has me released from the clinic, and then we are gone, driving out of the city. It seems as though we drive forever.

I don't ask where we are going. Right after the Dose I don't care, and when it starts to wear off a little bit, I realise that I don't really want to know. And I try not to think about what will be coming next.

We stop at an isolated farmhouse, where, my father tells me, we will be staying for a couple of days before moving on. He takes care of me as though I am a child again. He Doses me morning and night, and in between, tells me stories of the homeworld. Of the spaceship he travelled on to get here – one of the last ones to leave before Ba'Ka'Ri was destroyed.

I listen, and I dream as my father strokes my hair to help me sleep, like he used to do. And sometimes I forget, and I feel safe again.

Then we are on the road again, and I drift in and out of sleep, and sometimes I see the road, spinning and refracting in front of me, and sometimes it's the blue marble of the Temple of the Ancients. We make frequent stops because my father has to lock his eyes to drive, and it's tiring to do for long periods.

We spend one night sleeping by the side of the road, and on the third day we arrive in the city. It's one of the few cities almost entirely inhabited by aliens and Hybrids. It developed and sprawled after the first spaceships landed, more than a century ago. It is spread out, haphazard and the streets are narrow and twisting.

Humans find it hard to navigate, but are drawn here by their (te-al'sku) addictions.

This city – Ba'Su'Mi – is the home of my childhood. It is where my father raised me.

**********************************************

"School," Kris says blankly, putting down his coffee cup and staring at his father.

"Yes, son. School. I know we were going to get a tutor for you, but that was – before. And now – now I think it would be better for you to go back. Be around your friends. Study. Have some fun. Well," Kris's dad amends when he sees the look in Kris's eyes, "Try, anyway. Think about it."

He gets up from the table, ruffles his hand through Kris's hair affectionately and heads out to work.

School, Kris thinks, curling his hands around his coffee cup, even though the coffee has gone cold. He had been planning to drop out, and finish his degree at home, with a private tutor. The idea still appealed, because he really didn't want to go out into the world at all.

He wanted to hide.

He still wants to hide. But – Kris closes his eyes and sees his father's face. His father, who had not only accepted Adam into their lives, but treated him like one of the family. Who had arranged for the deliveries of Adam's Dose, and made hundreds of tiny alterations to accommodate the unexpected turn that Kris's life had taken, with no judgment at all.

School. He can do it.

When his father gets home that night, Kris says, "Alright. I'll go back to school. For – for you."

**********************************************

El'hu'li (home). We lived here until I turned 15. I had been (de'hen'di) happy here. As we navigate the streets, I watch as those memories unfold in my mind's eye. Part of it is the Dose, because the memories are clearer than what is in front of me.

When we finally pull up in front of a nondescript door it is late and I am riding the edge of (rhya'mor) withdrawal. I look at my father, and he says, "Soon. Come on."

It's a (zu'xe-sha) brothel. We go through the door and are in a foyer. There are other Hybrids, looking bored, or sleepy. They don't look up when we come in. My father puts his hand on my back, and keeps it there as we are approached by a human. "She's the owner," he tells me softly.

"Shi'-ah," she says, greeting my father.

"Kara," he says, shaking the woman's hand. "This is Adam." The woman – short and sharp with dark hair – studies me closely. She leans in and touches my arm. I flinch and turn to my father.

He rubs my back and says, "It's alright. Soon. He's overdue for his Dose," he tells Kara, who nods.

"You were right about the freckles. He'll be very popular. This way."

We follow Kara, and once again, my world shrinks.

One room.

Dose.

Men.

Women.

I don't let myself think about Kris.


	4. Trials

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Nothing herein belongs to me

School turns out to be not as bad as Kris had thought. It feels good, some of the time – normal. He has classes, and assignments, and his friends to keep him busy. He even acquires a girlfriend, someone he meets at some off-campus party, and that surprises him more than anything.

He's not in love, he knows, but it's easier to have someone. She's pretty, she makes him laugh, and he figures that's enough for now.

He lives in off-campus housing, with Matt and Danny; in a house his father bought for that purpose.

He goes to school. He does his coursework. He spends time with his friends, and he sleeps with Serena.

He never talks about Adam.

Near the end of the school year, he's approached by a member of the scientific research department. Puzzled, he agrees to a meeting with Dr. Cowell. Kris doesn't really know him, and isn't in any of his classes, so he has no idea what the abrupt British researcher wants.

"Do you know of the work we're doing here at the moment, Mr Allen?" Dr. Cowell asks as he shuts his office door behind Kris and moves to sit down behind his desk.

"It's Kris. And uh … no, I don't, sorry."

"At the moment, our most important work is focused on a vaccine. Well, it's a little more complicated than that, but that's basically what it is."

"A vaccine? For what?"

"As you know, er, Kris, human/Hybrid relationships have been illegal for some time. Because of the … nature of the relationships. That they inevitably turn to addiction. Which you yourself know." Dr. Cowell holds up a hand as it appears Kris is about to speak. "Your father's company funds a large part of our research, and I spoke to him about you. I believe you went through withdrawal last year?"

"I … yes. I did."

Dr. Cowell leans back in his chair and smiles. "Perfect. Because the vaccine that we are working on would enable humans and Hybrids to have normal relationships. To have families, even, without descending into addiction. We are nearly ready to start human trials, but we're having trouble finding subjects. That's where you come in."

"Me? I don't understand."

"What we need are humans who have gone through withdrawal. Our research has determined that the vaccine will be most effective on them. Something to do with leftover antibodies, which stay in the blood permanently, but that's neither here nor there. Of course, we would have preferred that you were still in your relationship with the Hybrid -"

"Adam," Kris says, the first time he's said Adam's name out loud for months and it feels strange on his tongue. "His name is Adam."

Dr. Cowell gives a small, tight smile. "Of course, I'm sorry. We would have preferred that you were still in the relationship with … Adam, but we would like you to be involved in the human trials."

"I … I don't know."

"Think about it," Dr. Cowell says, standing up, handing Kris a business card. Kris knows he's being dismissed for now. "And get back to me. I know it's a lot to take in."

Kris bails on his classes for the rest of the day, and switches off his phone after the fifth message from Serena. The house is empty, for which he's grateful. He goes into his room, lies down on the bed and stares at the wall, not moving.

After a while, he sits up, and calls his father at work.

Although in a meeting, Kris's father takes the call, worried. Kris never calls him during the day. He listens as Kris describes Dr. Cowell's proposal and says, "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know, Dad. I mean – Adam's not … here, and I wonder what the point is but -"

"But you could help others, son. Other people in the situation you were in last year. It sounds to me like the vaccination - if it works – would make it easier for them to apply for established relationship licenses. Look. One thing at a time. Get through your finals first. Then decide about the trials. I can't tell you what to do here, but I do know that Dr. Cowell's reputation in the field of Hybrid research is unparalleled. I have to get back to work – I'm in the middle of a meeting. I love you."

"I love you too, Dad. And thanks," Kris says softly, before hanging up the phone. He stares at it for a moment, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out Dr. Cowell's card. He dials the number before he changes his mind.

*************************************************

The brothel is raided at 4am.

I am lying on the bed, feeling the edge of (rhya'mor) withdrawal starting to close in. My last – client – has just left and I feel as though I cannot move.

I don't know how long I've been here. Months, anyway. The Dose makes time feel … (ghi'an-ku) slippery.

Then I hear noises shouting, and windows breaking. Someone is running down the hallway and I hear doors crashing open. I get off the bed, pull on trousers and a shirt just before my own door is flung open and I am dragged out by an armed policeman.

It's chaos. There are police officers, people and Hybrids everywhere. The foyer is full of noise and I find myself near the front. The door is in pieces, with glass and wood all over the floor. I look around, but no one is paying attention to me yet.

Without thinking about what I am doing, I slip out of where the door used to be, turn the corner, and I am (bha'no) gone. I'm running, and running and I don't know where I'm going, and it's the first time I've ever been on my own, and the only reason I stop running is because pain slams into me and I collapse in the gutter.

*************************************************

Kris realises it's a lot for Serena to take in all at once, so he gives her a bit of time to process everything.

She drains her wine and sets the glass on the kitchen table. After Kris didn't answer her calls, or show up for his classes, she had come around to find out what was wrong.

"Um. So. Let me see if I have this straight. For your 21st birthday, your friends took you to a club, where you met a Hybrid … whore, got addicted, took him HOME with you and only went through withdrawal when he ended up in a coma. Then his father came along, and now you want to do -"

"Human trials on vaccine testing. Actually, I've already said that I would do them. Yes. And please, don't call him a whore. His name is-"

"Adam, I know," Serena snaps out, then takes a deep breath and pours herself another glass of wine. When she's sure she can be calm about it again, she says, "But Kris, why do you want to do this? You're with me now, and I thought that things were … good with us. And if you go through with the trials … wait." And Kris closes his eyes as Serena begins to work things out. "Wait. Surely the only way to to test the vaccine's effectiveness is if you …. no. Kris, you can't. You can't just go and, and have sex with one of those – with a Hybrid! What about me? What if it doesn't work? What if you get addicted again?"

Serena takes another gulp of wine as she hears her voice pitch higher and higher.

Kris opens his eyes and reaches across the table to take her hand. She doesn't pull away, but leaves her fingers open. "Serena, please. I know it's a lot to ask, but please try and understand why I'm doing this. I swear, it's not for me. It's not about me."

Unable to sit still anymore, Kris pulls his hand back and stands up to pace the kitchen as he tries to explain. "I was one of the lucky ones. My family had money, so we could afford proper treatment when I went through the withdrawal. Even then … I nearly died. So." Kris turns around and looks Serena in the eye. "I'm not doing this for me – like you said, I'm not with ... a Hybrid anymore. And as for the – pairing, as Dr. Cowell called it, it's a one-time thing. I mean, I hope it's a one-time thing, and I know it's a lot to ask, and if it doesn't work, then – then I guess I'll just have to go through withdrawal again."

He sits down beside her and takes her hand again. Gently he says, "I'm doing it because I can – help. And I know it's a lot to take in, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but I wasn't sure how to have that conversation.

"According to Dr. Cowell, the trials are a week of injections, and recording any side effects. Then –the pairing, at the end of the week. The trials are due to start at the beginning of the summer break."

Serena studies him for a moment, absently twirling the stem of her wineglass. "And if I asked you not to. If I said, don't do it. For me. That I don't want you to put yourself at risk like that. What would you say?" but Serena has her answer, because Kris is already shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, Serena. I really am, but this is something I have to do. That I feel strongly about. And I was hoping you would understand ..." his voice trails off and he bites his lip, looking away.

"I'm sorry, too. Because I think – I think this is the deal-breaker for me. I can't sit back while you – sleep with someone else. No matter what the reason. And I really can't watch you get addicted, because I've seen that before and I won't go through it again."

Kris nods, studying his hands resting on the table. "I understand. And I am sorry. I wish – things could have been different."

Kris keeps his eyes on his hands as Serena kisses him on the cheek and picks up her bag.

"So do I, Kris," she says, before quietly leaving.

Kris is still sitting at the table when Matt and Danny get home.

*************************************************

When I wake up, I don't know where I am. I think the brothel at first, but there's too much light. Prison? I'm in … bed. Somewhere. I want to move; roll over, or sit up, but all of my nerve endings feel like they're sparking and about to ignite.

I have never experienced this but I know what it is: withdrawal. Everything hurts, inside and out. Eventually, I manage to will myself to sitting up. I lean against the headboard and look around.

It's a bedroom, but it's not the brothel. Nor is it jail. It's just … a bedroom. The last thing I remembered was falling into the gutter. I want to get out of bed; to call out, but just sitting up has sapped the last of my … strength. The English words are slipping again. Between a month with Kris, and nearly a year with Kara – who used to come into my room and talk to me in between clients – I am nearly as fluent as they. Or I was.

A man I have never seen before comes into the room, carrying something on a tray. With great effort, I manage to lock my eyes and he puts the tray on the bed, sitting down in a chair I hadn't seen.

"Good. You're awake. You've been out of it for a couple of days, son. I was starting to worry that I was going to have to take you to the hospital."

My eyes widen at that – addicted Hybrids admitted to hospital must be reported to the authorities, and I wanted to say how grateful I was, but I couldn't speak over the pain.

The man reaches out and hesitantly pats me on the arm. "It's okay, son. You're safe here. My name is Father Mike. You collapsed in front of me, and I brought you here."

I want to say thank you; to ask so many questions, but the pain … my eyes unlock on their own and I can feel spasms rock through me like an earthquake. I hear Father Mike talking to someone else, and then the cool slide of a needle in my arm. It's not Dose, but it makes the seizures stop and I collapse back against the bed.

I don't remember much about the next few days. Father Mike is in and out; and a blond woman, who seems to be the one giving me injections. They talk by the bed sometimes, but the murmuring is nothing but a background to the pain.

Ten years of the Dose. A withdrawal I was not wanting. And it _hurts_.

I slip in and out for the next few days, and I wonder if this is how Kris felt last year, going through his own (rhya'mor) withdrawal.

I dream, sometimes.

I see my childhood, here in Ba'Su'Mi, my dreams refracting around the central figure of my father.

Sometimes, I'm in Fuse with a client. Or I meet Kris over and over again for the first time. Or the dream with Kris will overlap with the dream on Ba'Ka'Ri and I'm talking to Kris there. The withdrawal is blurring the lines until I can't tell what's real anymore.

Then, one day, the dreams start to lessen. The pain starts to fade – slowly – and I start to wake up properly. It feels, sometimes, as though I have never lived anywhere else but in the dreams, and in pain, but it's really only been a few weeks since I began going through withdrawal.

I am too tired to talk, at first, and the English and the Ba'Ka'Ri words tangle in my mind the way they used to at Fuse, when Ryan first insisted I learn English.

Father Mike is patient with me. The blond woman - a doctor who is in Father Mike's congregation, he tells me – still comes in every few days to examine me. She is a Hybrid, but more human than anything else. Her skin is very pale, with undertones of blue, and her pupils are still, like a human's.

As soon as I feel strong enough to speak, and I can separate English from Ba'Ka'Ri in my mind, I try to thank Father Mike for taking me in, and for taking time away from his church for me. He waves it away saying, "Son, I would be a mighty poor priest if I didn't help someone who so obviously needed it. I'd never be able to stand up in front of my congregation again."

Mostly, once I gather my strength, we talk. I talk. I have never talked about myself so much. I find myself telling Father Mike everything – about my father, and the Dose, and Fuse, meeting Kris … everything. And he listens. He sits by the bed, at first, then when Megan – the doctor – declares me fit enough to get up – he sits by me on the couch and listens.

I never knew I had so much to say. But once I start, I can't stop myself and it pours out of me in a jumble of languages. Father Mike knows a little Ba'Ka'Ri, he tells me, but sometimes he says, "Slow down, son. I can hardly understand you."

No one has ever listened to me like that.

He finds out what happened after the raid, and it turns out to have been illegal. They had gone in without the paperwork being cleared, so everyone was released.

"My father. He'll be looking for me there," I say, the old fear collapsing on me. I don't notice at first that Father Mike is shaking his head. "No, he won't. I made some inquiries. Adam ..." he sits down on the couch beside me. "Your father is in prison. He was arrested at an illegal poker game before the brothel was raided. Turns out he also had a house full of stolen goods. I don't think he's going anywhere for a while."

I don't know what to say, or to think. I should be relieved, but a part of me wants to help – to get him out of there. "I don't know what to do," I say.

"Well, I would say good riddance to the man, but that's not really a Christian attitude.

"Let's look at it from another angle. You're away from that – place. Your father is in jail, and he doesn't know where you are right now. So. You know you're welcome to stay here for as long as you like, right? But Adam … I think it's time you made some decisions – for yourself. You've pretty much been at the mercy of others your whole life, from what you tell me, and if this isn't a God-given opportunity for change, then I don't know what I'm talking about.

"So. Adam. What do you want to do?"

*************************************************

Kris leans back against the wall of the bathroom and closes his eyes. It's the second day of the seven-day trial and – apart from his withdrawal last year – he doesn't remember being this sick.

Dr. Cowell had warned that there would be side effects from the vaccine. Kris is supposed to record what they are, but right now, when his stomach is trying to climb out of his throat, he can barely remember his name.

He opens his eyes when he hears someone coming into the bathroom. He's at the clinic, where the trials are being run. "Hey, Alli," he says to the redheaded nurse coming in to check on him. His father had insisted he have a private nurse for the duration of the trials, and Allison – new to the clinic – had volunteered.

"Hey yourself. How're you feeling?"

Kris pulls a face and tries to sit up, which turns out to be a mistake. Holding up a hand, he turns and throws up again, flushing the toilet afterwards.

"Um. Fine?"

Allison sits down on the floor across from him and says, "Uh huh. I thought you could use some help with recording your side effects. I see you haven't filled in any of the forms yet."

He notices then that she's got a folder and a pen in her hand. "Sure, why not. I'm not going anywhere for a while."

Allison nods and puts on what she calls her professional nurse-face, then goes through all the questions on the form that Kris is supposed to answer every day. It takes longer than she thinks it will, and they don't finish until after her shift ends.

"I'm sorry it took so long," Kris says weakly, but finally able to stand, and his stomach seems to be behaving itself finally. Allison hauls herself up from the floor and shakes her head. "Hey, it's all good. More overtime for me. Do you need a lift home, or is someone coming to pick you up?"

Kris stares at her for a moment, then pulls his phone out of his pocket. There's a bunch of missed messages from Matt. He dials the number and says, "Sorry, man. I'm ready now. Paperwork."

He flips the phone shut, and smiles at Allison. "See you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow, lab rat," Allison says cheerfully before leaving the room.

"So," Matt says in the car on their way back to Kris's place. "How did it go?" Kris is leaning back against the headrest, his eyes closed. "Oh, about as you'd expect. Dr. Cowell jabbed me with needles and I threw up for a few hours. Just another day."

"Sounds – awful. Do you think you'll get through it alright?"

"If I threw up for 12 hours a day for a week, it's still better than what I went through last year. So yes. I'll get through it alright."

Kris is grateful when Matt shuts up to concentrate on getting through traffic. Kris knows he could use one of his family's cars and drivers, but it's kind of nice to have someone pick him up whose interested in what he's going through without being paid to.

"So – do you know what's going to happen? On the last day."

Kris opens his eyes then, and stares out into the traffic. "The 'pairing', as Dr. Cowell put it? No. Not yet. Dr. Cowell says he has it under control, but the thought of being with someone I don't know ..." Kris pulls a face and shuts his eyes again.

"I try not to think about that part."

Matt turns the car into the apartment building's car park and says, "Well, rather you than me. After what you went through last year ..." he trails off as he parks the car.

"Thanks for the sympathy, man," Kris mutters as he gets out of the car.

In the past year, since losing Adam, Kris likes to think he's built an orderly, safe little world for himself. A world that makes sense to him – a world that can't hurt him. He has his friends, his family and - until recently anyway - a nice, pretty girlfriend. He can help others by taking part in the trials, and his family's money offers a nice cocoon from the world. It all feels safe.

But when he and Matt get to the penthouse, Kris's brother Daniel brings that safe little world crashing down with four words:

"I saw Adam today."


	5. Pairing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Nothing herein belongs to me

"So. Adam. What do you want to do?"

The question that Father Mike asks me runs around in my head, chasing possibilities that seem out of reach. My life has never been about what I want to do, and I don't even know if there's an answer.

I ran from the brothel with nothing. Now all I have are the clothes that Father Mike has pulled out of his church's charity bin for me.

What do I want? I know one of the answers to that question, but I also know that's not what Father Mike is asking. And whether Kris would want me back … I push my father's words about that out of my head. I can't think about Kris. Because Father Mike is right. It's time I started relying on myself.

After a couple of days, an idea starts to form. "I don't know what I want," I say to Father Mike, "But what I need is a job. And a place to live. And to – go back. Get out of here before my father gets out of prison and finds out I'm not – where he expects me to be."

Father Mike just nods, and says, "Well, son. That's a start. Out of Ba'Su'Mi. A job. A roof over your head. Let's get working on that."

And he does. Father Mike is a (ski'oh-rhi) force of nature. Within a couple of weeks, I have a job, a place to say, and a ride out of here.

Before I go back, Father Mike and I have one more talk.

"Do you miss it? The Dose, I mean. It's the only thing we haven't talked about."

We're sitting at his kitchen table, in the morning sun. I'm waiting for Megan, who has offered to drive me back to the city. Do I miss the (A'kri-na) Dose?

"Yes," I answer, finally. "The Dose … put a filter on my world. And I … liked that. I miss it every day. But I know, if I go back to the Dose, then I might as well go back to Kara, or Ryan, because that's the only place it would lead."

"What about Kris? Couldn't it lead you back to him as well?" But I'm already shaking my head.

"If I just go back because I miss the Dose … then I really am just the person my father thinks I am. Besides, I can't go back to Kris. I can't risk him becoming addicted again. I won't."

Father Mike is nodding, and smiling. "Good. Now. You call me every day, alright? Let me know if you have any problems. Any at all. Megan will help you set you apartment up when you get there, and show you how to pay your bills." He looks out the window as a car pulls up.

"Megan's here. Time to go."

******************************

Kris stares at Daniel for a moment, sure he misheard. "You – what? _Where_?"

"Do you remember that shop you used to get Adam's books from? The one run by that short, flaky Hybrid?"

"Paula," Kris says, rapidly running out of patience.

"He works there. I saw him through the window."

Kris sits down heavily on the couch, looking at his watch. It's past 9 at night, there's no way the shop will be open now … he runs his hands through his hair. Adam.

Matt sits down beside him and puts his hand on his arm. "Are you okay? You look kind of pale."

"I'm, I'll be – I'm -" Kris leans forward, burying his face in his hands. He feels Matt's hand on his back, rubbing in circles and Daniel saying something about a drink. Kris shakes his head and takes his hands away from his face, gripping his knees. "Just - water. Dr. Cowell said no alcohol until after the trials end." He sits up and Matt shifts a little but leaves his hand on the small of Kris's back.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks quietly, looking worried at how pale Kris is.

Kris shakes his head and says, "I can't think. I've been throwing up for I don't know how many hours, my arm hurts because Dr. Cowell played find-the-vein for the longest time, I'm fucking tired, I want to see Adam, and ..." Matt moves his hand away as Kris leans back against the couch and stares up at the ceiling.

Matt exchanges a worried look with Daniel, who nudges Kris's hand with a water bottle. "Here you go."

"Thanks," Kris says, twisting the cap off and taking a drink.

Matt touches him on the arm briefly and says, "Hey, I got an early start in the morning. I gotta get going, but let me know if you need a ride home tomorrow."

"I'll be alright. Thanks, Matt."

Kris hears Matt and Daniel talking softly by the door, but is too tired to try and make out what they're saying. Adam, he thinks, and it feels like a heartbeat. Adam.

Daniel comes and sits beside him on the couch. "Not gonna pass out on me?"

"No. I'm not going to pass out on you. I just need to sit for a while longer, and then go to bed, pretend to sleep and -"

"What time are you due at the clinic tomorrow?" Daniel interrupts, sensing Kris winding up.

"Eleven. Same as today."

"Okay. I'll drive you. We can stop at Paula's shop beforehand if you like," Daniel says, standing up and holding out his hand. "Come on, lab rat," and Kris smiles at Daniel using Allison's nickname for him. "You can at least pretend to get some sleep." Kris grabs it and hauls himself off the couch, still clutching the water bottle. "Alright, alright. I'm coming."

Kris puts the water on the nightstand and collapses on the bed, too tired to get out of his clothes. In the morning he wakes up to find that someone during the night has taken off his shoes and covered him with a blanket. He pushes it back and sits up slowly, blinking. His tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth, which tastes like the bottom of a garbage bin, and he's starving.

He gets off the bed, and goes out to the kitchen where Daniel and his father are having breakfast. He smells coffee and heads for the pot first, pouring a cup and sitting down.

"How're you feeling son? You'd gone to bed by the time I got home last night."

"Terrible. Horrible. Hungry," Kris says, reaching for toast as his father gets up from the table and kisses both his sons on the tops of their heads, like he used to do when they were little. "I hope today goes better for you with the trials, son. I'll see you boys tonight."

Daniel and Kris murmur, "Bye Dad," before Kris forces himself to get moving – shower, and dressed, and not-thinking about seeing Adam again.

Daniel's waiting for him by the front door. "You ready?"

"No, but let's go anyway."

******************************

The job turns out to be part-time, in Paula's Hybrid book store. I had been there a couple of times with Kris. The best thing about the job is that it comes with the apartment, which is above the store. The rent is, Megan says, minimal, because Paula likes the idea of someone being on the premises all the time.

The apartment basically just an empty room, with a tiny kitchen, and an even smaller bathroom, but none of that matters to me, because it's (bhi-ro) mine.

Father Mike had given me money, which I didn't want to take, but he insisted. "Take it. Get set up. Get yourself a life that you're proud of for once."

I look around the apartment again, and at Megan, and I can't stop smiling.

"It's small, I know," she says, "But I guess that doesn't matter to you, does it? So … how about we get you some furniture? And some groceries."

We spend my first day back in Los Angeles scouring secondhand stores for furniture for my new place. (Bhi-shu-go. My. Place. My place.) At the end of the day I have a bed, bookshelves, a TV, and an armchair. My fridge and cupboards are full and I have almost everything that I need.

I'm due to start work in the shop in a week, and Megan stays with me for a few days, helping me set up bank accounts, and showing me how to pay bills, and how to budget.

I'm 25, I think, lying awake that night, watching the night refract around me. And someone had to show me how to pay a phone bill.

After Megan leaves, and I start work for Paula in the shop, my life settles into a kind of … (hish'zhi) peace. I work. I talk to Paula. I pay my bills, and I buy food. I try not to think about Kris. I try not to think about Dose, or my father.

I call Father Mike a few times a week, because he asked me to, and he listens, like always.

It's a series of small things, this new life of mine, and my old existence starts to fade a little, like a dream.

I have had this new life for two months when Kris walks into the store with his brother.

All I can do for a moment is stare. I've only just opened up for the day, not expecting Paula until later on, and I pinch myself because for a horrible moment I think I'm still going through Dose withdrawal and this is one of those dreams. He walks up to the counter, and he's thinner, with (dhi'ah-xhu) shadows under his eyes and I want to reach out and _touch_ because he looks so unhappy, but all I can do is lock my eyes and stare.

"Adam," he says, and his voice sounds raspy, and rough. "I -" but he stops there, like he doesn't know what to say, grasping the counter so hard there are white marks on his fingers.

I look up at the shop, but it's empty this early. Daniel is frowning at a print on the wall, done by one of the alien artists Paula commissions for works to sell. I lift the flap and say, "Come into the back. But – you can't stay long. I'm here on my own."

He nods, and turns to Daniel who says, "Go ahead. I'll be fine. I'll let you know if anyone comes in."

We go into the back room, which has a desk one one side, and a sink with a kettle on the other. There's an old couch at the back and without thinking, I take Kris's hand and lead him back to it. We sit, facing each other, and I don't let go of his hand.

He stares at our linked fingers for a moment, then up at me, his expression dazed. "You – I never thought I'd see you again," and he sounds confused, like he's trying to figure something out. "You … sound different."

"I know. It's a long story. Can you come back tonight? After the shop closes? I live upstairs." He hesitates, and my heart starts to sink, but then he says "Sure, but it'll be late, and I won't be much in the way of good company."

And then he tells me about the vaccine trials that he's part of and something that feels very much like hope bubbles in my chest, but I don't say anything. He unwinds his fingers from mine when he looks at his watch, and stands up, studying me for a moment.

"You look different," he says, still puzzled. And I want to tell him about the Dose, but – I hear Daniel calling back from the front of the shop, and it can wait until tonight. "I need to get back to work," I say reluctantly, wanting to spill out everything and say – Kris nods and holds out his hand for me to get up from the couch.

He stumbles a little, and we're pressed together for a second, with him looking up at me. He touches my bottom lip with his thumb and says, "I'll see you tonight."

With that, he kisses me quickly, and is gone.

******************************

In between bouts of throwing up, Kris fills Allison in about Adam, and she listens wide-eyed as she fills in the form, and does a million other little things.

"Wow," she says, when Kris has brought her up to date. "So – are you going to ask him to … you know ..."

Kris leans back against the bathroom wall and closes his eyes. "I don't know. I haven't decided yet. Maybe."

"Do you think he'd do it?"

Kris tries to shake his head, which turns out to be an error of judgment for his stomach. "I don't know," he says quietly when he can speak again. "I never really knew how he felt about me."

"Did he know how you felt?" Kris opens his eyes and stares at Allison for a moment, but she's sitting on the edge of the bathtub, pretending to be busy with his form.

"You're full of questions today, aren't you? But no. We never talked about it."

When Allison decides that yes, he's fit enough to leave for the day, Kris splashes his face with cold water and brushes his teeth with the toothbrush and paste he'd asked Allison to get for him earlier. He stares at his reflection for a moment and realises he's nervous.

Taking a deep breath, he heads out to the foyer, where Matt's waiting to take him to Adam's.

******************************

Paula tries to make me go home early after I drop a pile of books for the third time.

"You're nervous, sweetie. It's natural," she says, leaving one of the other part-timers watching the shop while we take a coffee break in the back room.

I've told her bits and pieces, mostly about Kris, and Father Mike. I know that Father Mike told her about Fuse, and the brothel, but all Paula did was give me a big hug and say, "I don't care what you did before. What matters is what you do now." And then she showed me how to operate the till before disappearing for three hours. Sometimes I wonder how she keeps the store open.

Nervous. "I don't think I've ever been nervous before," I say as she hands me a cup of coffee and sits down beside me. "But I don't think going upstairs is going to help. Sometimes I think things were easier with the Dose. I didn't have to feel as much."

Paula leans back against the couch and sips her coffee. "Easier, maybe. But not better. You know where that path leads back to. Now. Get out of my shop for the day. Go upstairs. Read a book. Take a shower for a few hours. I don't know. But you're no good to me today."

I go, reluctantly, but I know that Paula is right. About the Dose, and about getting any work done. So I go upstairs, and clean my apartment. Which doesn't take long, because it's not much more than one room, and I keep it as tidy as I can anyway. Although the books are starting to pile up a bit.

I take some of Paula's advice, and have a shower. I re-check my groceries, but I'm all stocked up. I feel like I'm going to jump out of my skin and this is bad. I could go to Fuse, find Ryan, see if he has any … I pick up the phone and call Father Mike instead, hoping he's home. He is, and like always, everything comes spilling out of me.

Sometimes I feel like I've got 10 years of … (ti'zu) stuff inside of me that's just been bubbling under the surface since the first time my father Dosed me. When I say this to Father Mike, he laughs. "I'm not surprised, son. You've been doing nothing but exist for so long, that when you get a chance to really live … it can feel a little overwhelming at first. It's good that you're excited about tonight, because from what you've told me, Kris sounds like a nice guy.

"But do me a favour, okay? Take a couple of deep breaths, and try to calm down, just a little bit. You know this guy. If nothing else, I'm sure he's still a friend. Just – take it from there. If anything else is meant to happen, it'll happen in its own time. Okay?"

I take a deep breath, and then another one and say, "Okay. Thank you."

"Any time, son. You know that. Good luck!"

I hang up the phone, and I do feel better. I curl up on the bed, and manage to lose myself in a book until I hear a knock at the door. What I didn't tell Paula, or Father Mike, is what I really want to do is kiss the breath out of Kris and taste his skin, and – all of the things we did last year, but now with no Dose filter … I want to feel them properly.

Instead, I go through stupid pleasantries, because now that he's here, I'm nervous again. He sits in the only chair and looks around while I get him a bottle of water from the fridge, and a glass of Hybrid wine for myself. I sit cross-legged on the bed, and we chat about nothing.

Then I find myself telling him about my father, and Kara, and Father Mike. Everything.

He sits, and listens, curled up in the armchair facing me as I talk. He doesn't say anything.

When I get to the present – working in Paula's store, he looks at me and says, "I'm sorry. About – everything. I always felt like we should have done something to stop your father from taking you."

I reach out and stroke across his cheek and down his neck with my thumb, resting it in the notch at the base of his throat. I can feel his pulse speed up. "It wasn't your fault. Or mine. My father …" but there my words fail me. How I feel about my father is something I have never managed to untangle.

I press my thumb in a little harder and he closes his eyes, arching his neck a little.

"I miss you," I say quietly, tired of talking about other things. He opens his eyes, which are big, and dark in the low light. "I miss you too," he says, and then I do what's been in the back of my mind for a very long time, and in the forefront since I saw him this morning: I kiss the breath out of him.

He's a little surprised, at first, but then he's pushing back, and somehow we end up wrapped around each other on my bed and I have a hand tangled in his shirt and one in his hair, and oh … this feels so good. I've only ever done this while on the Dose before. And it's so … clear. I can feel everything – skin, and Kris's mouth and oh … the _taste_.

He pulls back to breathe, his eyes wide, and his mouth swollen and red, his hands on my shoulders, both fisted in my shirt. He says high, and gasping, "Wait, wait! I can't do this now," and I mutter a curse word in Ba'Ka'Ri into his neck. He just laughs and says, "I know what that means, you know. Please … I really can't do this now. I want to, but – the trials. I can't do this until the end of the trials."

The trials. Reluctantly I pull back and collapse against the headboard. He crowds into me, wrapping an arm around my back and resting the other on my chest, like he used to. "I forgot how fast your heartbeat was," he says, his head resting on my shoulder.

"When do the trials end?" I ask and he spreads his fingers out, feeling the vibration of my voice.

"Sunday," he says. "And there's something I need to ask you. Just – you can say no." I stroke a hand down his side, sliding it under his shirt and resting it on his hip. "What is it?"

"It's … the trials. On the last day – on Sunday – Dr. Cowell wants me to, uh, pair with a Hybrid after the last injection. It's the only way to find out if it's effective. And he said he could find someone, and I know we only just met again today, but I was hoping you would-"

"Yes," I say, without thinking. Of course it's going to be me. I feel him sag against me with relief. "It's always going to be me, I hope," I say softly, before tilting his face up for a kiss.

"Um. Yes. I mean, okay. Good." And I laugh at that a little bit, but that's cut off when he straddles me and kisses me again. "I was hoping you would say that," he says, "But I really, really have to go, before all of Dr. Cowell's hard work goes to waste."

Sunday, I think as Kris closes the door.

******************************

Sunday, Kris thinks when he wakes up. It's Sunday. Last day of the trials. It took some convincing, but Kris and his father managed to talk Dr. Cowell into administering the last of the jabs at Adam's. Dr. Cowell was pleased that Kris had reconnected with Adam, and that he didn't – as he put it – have to go and search for a suitable 'pairing' for Kris.

Kris smiles to himself as he gets in the shower, thinking about Adam. It had gone from shock to amazing pretty quickly, he had to admit, and it had been hard, not seeing him for the past few days, although they talked on the phone every night, and Kris would marvel all over again at the change in Adam. Especially considering what he had gone through, and despite what Adam had said about it, Kris still feels a twist of guilt in his stomach.

"It's like … I don' t know, Dad," he'd said, trying to explain the change to his father after seeing Adam. "Like he's shed a skin, or something. Like – parts of him are still the Adam I remember, but now it feels like – this is the Adam he's supposed to be. I don't know. But I'm glad the – the last of the trials are going to be with him."

His father had smiled, and hugged Kris tight. "I'm happy for you, son. That you've found him again, and I hope the vaccine works out for you, I really do."

And now here it was. The last day. Either the vaccine would work, or - "I'll end up an addict again," Kris says to himself as he gets ready. Well. Moment of truth.

Daniel drives him to Adam's, where Dr. Cowell and Allison are waiting, standing on the pavement by Paula's shop. "Good luck," Daniel says.

They go upstairs to Adam's, who seems jittery, and holds back a little bit. "I'm fine," he says quietly when Kris asks. "Just – a little nervous I guess." He subsides into the background, but watches, while Dr. Cowell administers the last injection in Kris's arm and says, "Twelve hours, Kris. I need you back at the clinic by eleven tonight so I can monitor you. Call me if you have any problems, and fill out the rest of your forms."

"Alright. Thanks, Dr. Cowell."

Dr. Cowell smiles and says, "Thank you for agreeing to take part. If this works … well. One thing at a time. I'll see you tonight."

Kris leans back and closes his eyes for a moment, as Dr. Cowell closes the door behind him. Allison cleans the injection site and tapes a small bandaid over it. "The fun part won't be long - oh, here we go," Alli says to Adam, as Kris gets up and makes a beeline for the bathroom.

The good news, according to Alli, is that the reaction to the vaccines seems to be getting shorter every day. "What that means is, you should be done puking your guts out in a couple of hours."

"Great. Thanks, Alli. That's -"

Allison winces a little and comes out of the bathroom, curling up in the armchair. "It's just a matter of waiting, now," she says to Adam, who is sitting on the bed. "I'll be here until the side effects abate."

They wait, in an odd limbo, with Adam not moving, and Allison checking on Kris occasionally in between filling out the last of his forms. Finally he sits back on the bathroom floor, feeling a little weak and shaky, but otherwise fine. Allison checks him over one more time, proclaims him "fit for whatever comes next, but I don't want to know," and she's gone.

******************************

I'm nervous again. And I have to say, it's not a sensation I enjoy at all. I've rearranged my cupboards, spice racks, books, and the towels in the built-in linen closet three times.

Time feels slippery again like this, it's like being on Dose, but the other side of the coin. Time speeds up and slows down in strange places. Then Kris, his doctor and nurse are here, and my apartment feels too small for so many people.

I wait, as patiently as I can, concentrating on keeping my eyes locked, because they have a tendency to spin on their own when I'm nervous, I've discovered. Dr. Cowell administers the last shot, talks to Kris about coming to the clinic later, and leaves. Allison says something to me that I don't really hear, and then she's with Kris in the bathroom. I want to go over there, make sure he's okay, but it's the smallest bathroom in the world and Allison's a nurse, so … I wait.

After she leaves, I go and sit on the floor just outside the bathroom door. He reaches out his hand and I take it, winding my long fingers through his. "How do you feel?" I ask, more for something to say, because he's pale and looks tired.

"I'll live," he says, edging closer to me before collapsing back against the wall again.

"You look … exhausted. Are you sure about-" but he just tightens his hand in mine and says, "I'll be fine. I just need a shower, and maybe a couple of hours sleep."

Standing, I pull him up with me, and he leans against me for a moment. "Will you be alright in the shower on your own?" He turns his head and looks at my tiny shower cubicle.

"Uh … I think I have to be. Give me a minute, and I'll be okay."

I prop him against the bathroom wall, and slide his shirt over his head, before turning the shower on. I stare at him for a moment, and I really, really want to touch, but … "I'll be – in the other room," I say as the steam starts to crowd the bathroom. "Call me if you need anything."

"A towel would be nice," he says without moving, and I hand him one from the cupboard. He takes it, looks at me and says, "I'd kiss you right now, but my mouth tastes like … never mind. I won't be long."

I close the door behind him and I'm not sure what to do with myself. I settle for sitting on the bed, and pretending to read. A little while later, the bathroom door opens and Kris comes out, wearing his jeans, but shirtless. He has a towel around his neck to catch water from his hair and I forget to lock my eyes, because I'm staring at a bead of water running down the side of his face to his neck.

"Uh … your eyes?" he says, looking at the floor, which makes me blink. "Oh. Sorry. You can look now," and I lock them with an effort. He rubs at his hair with the towel before hanging it on the rail in the bathroom, and crawling on to the bed beside me.

"So – I need to be at the clinic by eleven tonight. Daniel's going to come and pick me up." He lays down beside me, tucking his head on to the pillow before closing his eyes.

"Right," I say, and I'm trying to sound matter-of-fact, but it comes out a little bit shaky. Opening his eyes Kris looks up at me without moving. "Are you sure you're okay with this? You seem a little … strange."

"I'm fine. I realised – I've never done this before."

Kris raises his eyebrows at that, and I realise how ridiculous that sounds. "I mean – I've only ever done this while I've been – Dosed and – I don't know. I've spent the past few days with this weird tension and I really hate feeling that way, but -" I look down at him and his eyes are half-closed, and I know he's nearly asleep."But. I do know that I missed you, and I can't stand the thought of you being with anyone else. After tonight – I haven't thought any further ahead than that."

"Neither have I," he half-mumbles into the pillow. "But if this doesn't work … "

"You'll be an addict again," I say quietly and the real implications sink in.

"I'm glad it's you," he says, and then his eyes close fully, and he falls asleep. I look at the clock. We have plenty of time. I pick up my book from where I had put it down on the nightstand, unlock my eyes, and read.

******************************

Kris wakes up and blinks, disoriented. He's moved in his sleep somehow, so he's lying with his head in Adam's lap, and Adam's fingers are working through his hair. He shifts his head to let Adam know he's awake, and Adam moves his hand so Kris can sit up.

"What time is it," Kris asks, his voice dry. Adam hands him an unopened bottle of water from the nightstand and says, "Just past six."

Kris opens the water and gulps down half the bottle. "You should have woken me up earlier."

Adam shrugs and says, "You looked … peaceful. Figured I'd let you sleep for as long as I could."

Kris stretches his neck and winces. "Ow. Ow. My neck!" He rubs at it with his hand, and stretches his head from side to side, trying to work out the kink.

"Here," Adam says, pulling him in and settling him so his back is flush to Adam's chest, Adam's long legs bracketing his. "What – oh ..." Kris subsides as Adam begins working the kinks out of his neck with his long fingers. Kris feels himself start to relax under Adam's familiar touch. "That's good," he says softly, as Adam's fingers work their way down his back.

"Adam? What do we do if – if the vaccine doesn't work?" Adam pauses, his hands resting on Kris's lower back. Planting a kiss on the back of Kris's neck, Adam says, "Then you'll just have to move into my tiny apartment with me." Kris laughs, and turns around in the circle of Adam's arms.

He studies Adam's face for a moment, and raises a hand to touch. He traces the shape of Adam's cheekbones and brushes his thumb over his bottom lip, tracing one dark blue freckle that stands out.

"Really," he says, but it's soft, and a little reflective.

"Really," Adam echoes back, taking Kris's thumb and slipping it into his mouth, curling his tongue around it. Kris watches it disappear, his own mouth opening, and his tongue flicking out. He pulls his thumb out with a soft 'pop' and leaning in, bites at Adam's bottom lip, resting his hands on Adam's hips, slipping them under his shirt.

Adam tastes the same, to Kris, as the first time: warm, and spicy with something indefinable. He pulls back, breathing a little hard and says, a little uncertain and shaky: "So – either way?"

"Rha'hi-shu," Adam agrees softly in Ba'Ka'Ri, pulling his shirt over his head and lowering Kris back on to the bed.

Kris lays back and stares up at Adam, smiling down at him.

"So – you have to go to the clinic later?" Adam asks, as he kisses his way down Kris's chest and stomach, and works on the zipper of his jeans.

"Um … uh … yeah. Dr. Cowell wants to – to isolate me for 24 hours. To see … oh … to, to see if … the … oh! Vaccine has taken. Why did you stop?" he asks Adam, who has paused with his mouth inches from Kris's cock, standing up hard, and a little painful, against his stomach.

Adam turns and rests his head on Kris's stomach, looking back. "Isolated? So - I won't be able to talk to you? Or see you?"

Kris shakes his head, tangles a hand in Adam's hair and says, "I told Dr. Cowell that – withdrawal doesn't take that long, but he says he wants to be thorough. The last injection was eleven this morning. Daniel's going to pick me up tonight to take me back to the clinic."

"In that case ..." Adam murmurs, and then Kris forgets to think about anything at all as his cock disappears slowly into Adam's mouth and somehow, in the past year, Kris had forgotten that Adam could do that thing with his tongue, where he curls it around and it's a hot, slick, moving tunnel on his cock and around it, and – Kris tightens his hand in Adam's hair and bucks his hips up as he comes, hard. He's conscious, vaguely, of Adam scrambling out of his trousers and then his mouth is on Kris's again and Kris can't help it, he wants to touch, and slides his hands over Adam's skin, scratching lightly at his back.

He watches as Adam slides two fingers into his mouth and brings it out, coated with the Hybrid's thicker saliva. Kris shuffles on the bed a little, spreading his legs and closing his eyes as Adam slides his slick finger in and he groans a little bit as Adam works him open slowly. Kris bites his lip to stop himself from begging, just please, but Adam catches the look in his eye and murmurs something in Ba'Ka'Ri in his ear as he finally – finally slides in, his hard length filling Kris up slowly. Kris wraps his legs around Adam, arching his back, silently asking for more, and more, and he's saying it out loud without being aware of it.

Adam's breath is hot on his ear, and their hands are tangled together, and Kris is hard again, and he arches up again as he feels Adam's orgasm shoot into him in a series of gasps and Ba'Ka'Ri curses, and then he's rocking against Adam looking for friction and release, and oh. Oh.

He collapses back against the pillow, breathing hard, and sweating. Adam pulls out carefully and lies down beside him, his chest heaving. Kris curls into Adam's side, resting his head on his chest, and putting his hand over Adam's heartbeat.

"One day," Adam says softly. "And then -"

"One day," Kris says. "And then we'll know."

Adam gets off the bed and gets a washcloth from the bathroom, cleaning them both up before settling back down beside Kris on the bed, pulling the covers over both of them.

******************************

After Kris leaves with Daniel, my apartment feels smaller than ever, and (de'bha-on) lonely for the first time.

I try to read, but the evening with Kris keeps intruding. It really did feel as though it was my first time. Everything was so (di'izh) clear it was almost painful. I had meant to tell Kris that, but didn't get a chance to.

It felt like we hadn't spent any time together at all, and I told myself that one day couldn't really make any difference.

Until the phone call the next morning from Father Mike, telling me my father has been found dead in his prison cell.


	6. Union

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Nothing herein belongs to me

"Adam? It's Father Mike. I'm calling about your father."

"My father? What -"

"Adam, I'm sorry to be the one to have to break this to you, but – Adam, your father - he's … dead."

"I – what?" I say, stupidly, sitting heavily down in the armchair, my heart dropping through my stomach.

"He was murdered in his cell," Father Mike says, as gently as he can. "There was an administration error, and he got a new cellmate. A human on the edge of withdrawal. Your father … tried to fight him off, but the man … I'm sorry, son. He broke your father's neck."

I can't breathe. I can hear Father Mike talking, but I can't hear what he's saying.

Dead. He's gone. My father. I can't think, and I say this to Father Mike.

"I don't know what to do. I – I'm supposed to open the shop soon. I can't -"

"Breathe, son. Just breathe for a second. One thing at a time. Can you call someone to come be with you? And call your boss – you can't go in to work. I'm sure she'll understand. Hang up, call your boss, call Kris maybe, and then call me back."

"I – I can't call Kris. Dr. Cowell put him in isolation for 24 hours after – last night. I won't be able to contact him until tonight." I hear Father Mike swear softly on the other end of the phone, and I feel as though I'll never be able to move again. Shock, I think vaguely. I'm in shock.

"What about his father? Or brother? You shouldn't be alone."

"I don't know. I'll try," but I don't know what I'm saying.

I talk to Father Mike for a little bit longer, but it's like I'm watching myself. I call Paula and she tells me to take as much time off as I need. I stare at the list of numbers on my phone as they refract and turn.

And I sit.

My father.

Is (bha'no) gone. He's (bha'xhi) dead. I test the words out on my tongue. Dead. Gone.

There are a thousand directions I could go in right now. What I want – what I need – is to talk to Kris, and I call the clinic, even though I know I'm not going to get through, and I don't get past the reception desk.

I should call Father Mike back – I should call Kris's father. I should do – something.

I sit.

*********************************************

Kris isn't sure when he gets to the clinic whether the vaccine has worked or not. He thinks it has, but it's a little soon to tell. He's tired, and irritable, because he'd rather be falling asleep with Adam right now than being subjected to a battery of Dr. Cowell's tests and seemingly endless questions.

Finally, Dr. Cowell is finished. Kris looks at his watch, and it's after midnight.

Dr. Cowell packs up his bag and says, "Try and get some sleep, and I'll be in to check on you in the morning."

Kris digs through the overnight bag Daniel had packed for him, and pulls out a toiletries bag, and pajamas. He looks at the room – basically a glorified hospital room with an uncomfortable looking bed and not a lot else – sighs a little, and heads into the en suite bathroom.

He splashes water on his face, brushes his teeth, changes into the pajamas and studies his face in the mirror over the sink for a moment. He looks … more relaxed, he thinks. Lines of tension he hadn't really noticed were gone. Smoothed out.

Kris doesn't let himself think about the vaccine too much, but he lets himself feel the first nudge of hope. A license, he thinks. We could get a license.

An established relationship license would mean they could be together, properly. And as for proving grounds … Kris looks down at his arm, still bruised from Dr. Cowell's injections. He was willing to go through the trials and risk addiction again. The only Hybrid he's ever been with is Adam. His father had paid for Adam's treatment when he was in a coma. They had grounds.

Kris hadn't let himself think about a license last year. He had a feeling – then – that the circumstances under which he came to be with Adam would be a stumbling-block. But now … the tiny spark of hope wants to flare up, but Kris tamps it down again.

But. Maybe.

He crawls into the impossibly uncomfortable bed and tries to sleep.

*********************************************

I don't know how long I'm sitting there for, and it takes me a while to register the fact that my phone is ringing.

"Adam? It's Father Mike again. I got worried when you didn't call me back. Look – I know you're in no shape to deal with these things but … I can get your father's body released to my custody. The prison chaplain is a friend of mine, and he's vouched for me to the warden.

"You need to decide – where the Shrouding is going to be."

I close my eyes. The Shrouding. My father – a full-blooded Ba'Ka, and a good man once, will require the full ceremony. I feel the weight on me, and I wish I could grieve for him. I can feel the edges of it, waiting to close in, and there is nothing more I want to do than curl up on my bed and give in to it. I think of Kris then, and wish more than anything that he was here.

"Here," I say to Father Mike. "The Shrouding will have to be here." I rub my eyes as I try and recall everything my father told me about the Ba'Ka funeral ceremony. "I need an elder," I say, thinking out loud to myself more than anything. "To perform the – the wai'sha-oh, and to do the actual Shrouding of the body."

"Wai'sha-oh," Father Mike repeats and says, "Oh, the song? A Ba'Ka elder … I think I know someone who would be willing to do it. Will you let me help you?"

I'm so tired. "Um. Sure. I – I'll call Kris's dad to let him know. What – what happened to … the cellmate?"

"Solitary for now, I think. Then I suppose he'll be re-charged. Do you want me to find out?"

"No. I was just – wondering."

"Well, alright, son. I'll go and call the elder I know, and get your father's body ready for transport. We'll fly in, I think. I'll let you know the details."

I murmur something and hang up the phone. I check the time, and scroll through my phone list until I get to the small list under Kris's father's name. I hesitate before calling his private cellphone number, feeling awkward.

"Adam?" he asks, puzzled. I've never called this number before. "Is something wrong?"

And then. I'm crying. Somehow I manage to get the story out, but I can't stop crying.

I hear Kris's father say, "I'm on my way," and then nothing but a dial tone.

*********************************************

Kris finally falls asleep and dreams strange, twisting dreams about chasing Adam through a building he doesn't recognise, and not quite catching him.

In the morning, when Kris wakes up, he knows that the vaccination has worked. He can't feel any kind of withdrawal at all, and he tells Dr. Cowell this as soon as he comes in with Allison.

"That's wonderful news, Kris. And no, you can't go home early. I still want to monitor you until tonight -" he's interrupted when Allison throws herself at Kris and nearly overbalances him with her overenthusiastic hug.

"Congratulations! You DID it! All that puking paid off!" And Kris can't help but laugh, even as Dr. Cowell is telling Allison off for being "unprofessional".

Kris untangles himself and says, "That's alright. Allison has been an awesome nurse to me this week. Really. So – I just have to sit here until tonight? Doing nothing? Can I call my – my family?"

Adam, he wants to ask. Can I call Adam.

But Dr. Cowell is already shaking his head. "No, Kris, I'm sorry. I know it's hard, and you want to share the news, but let's do the research part of it my way, alright? Allison will be here to monitor you and keep you company."

Kris pulls a face, but subsides as Dr. Cowell goes about his examination, and another round of endless questions. Allison curls up on the bed after Dr. Cowell leaves and pulls out a pack of cards.

"Ready to lose your inheritance, lab rat?"

Kris laughs, and sits cross-legged on the bed across from her saying, "Sure. I'll let my Dad know that you'll be taking over my trust fund."

Allison laughs, and starts dealing.

*********************************************

I'm back at the Allen's penthouse, curled up on Kris's bed. I can hear his father on the phone, talking to Father Mike, making arrangements to transfer my father's body. Arrangements I should be making, but I can't move. It feels like (ryha'mor) withdrawal a little bit. Everything hurts.

I fall asleep, I think, because when I wake up, the room is dark. I turn on the lamp by the bed and look at the clock. It's after 7. I go out to the kitchen where Daniel and his father are quietly talking.

"Hey, Adam. I'm … sorry about your dad," Daniel says, as his father beckons me to sit down at the table.

"Thank you," I say, feeling tired and dazed. I concentrate as hard as I can as Kris and Daniel's father tells me about the arrangements for the next day.

"Father Mike and the elder are flying in early with your father's body. I've found an alien/Hybrid temple that can host the – Shrouding and then – cremation, is that right?"

"That's right. On the homeworld, his body would have been released into the river, heading for the afterlife over the horizon. Here … I'll scatter his ashes over moving water. And … that's all, really."

"Well, you're welcome to stay here tonight. I understand that the Shrouding will just be you and the elder, but, if it's alright with you, we'd like to come to the temple with you. Offer moral support."

I have to look down, because my eyes have unlocked on their own. When I have them under control again, I look up. "I – thank you."

"Here, son. Eat something. I know you're probably not hungry, but I'll feel better, alright?"

Nodding, I pick at the food, and focus on keeping my eyes locked. As soon as I can, I excuse myself and go and lie down on Kris's bed again. I must fall asleep, again, because when I wake up in the middle of the night, Kris is lying beside me, watching me.

"Kris? When did you get here?" I sit up and turn the lamp on again.

"A couple of hours ago. I was hoping not to wake you up," he says, as he fits himself to my side and slides a hand under my shirt.

"I'm sorry about your father. Daniel told me," he says quietly. "Can I do anything? Do you want to talk?"

"Tell me about your day. About the vaccine. I can't – think about my father right now."

And I close my eyes as he settles in closer, wrapping an arm around him and enjoying the heavy warmth of him being so close. He tells me that the vaccine has worked, that he had no symptoms, and about hanging out with Allison all day.

"All I could think of was coming home and telling you."

"Well, it's good news. I'm glad it works," and under all of the tangled feelings about my father, I feel the same little bubble of hope I had when I saw Kris in the store last week.

"Mmmhmm," he murmurs and his voice is slow and sleepy.

"Lie down," I say, waiting until he's lying on his side before curling around him. He's asleep in a matter of minutes. I unlock my eyes, my arm curled around him, and stare into the night for a very long time before sleep, and dreams of my father, claim me.

*********************************************

Kris wakes up to the shrieking of an alarm clock, Adam muttering Ba'Ka'Ri curses into the back of his neck while Kris fumbles until he finds the off switch.

He burrows under the covers for a second, warm and comfortable with Adam's long arm wrapped around him. "Are you ready for today?" he asks quietly.

Adam plants a kiss on the back of Kris's neck and says, "No." He starts sliding his hand down, and Kris arches automatically, reacting to Adam's touch, but … "Are you sure you want to do this now? I mean ..."

"I know." Adam feathers tiny kisses along the back of Kris's neck, where he's particularly sensitive, and says, "I just – I want to feel something else for a while. Something – good. Please?"

Kris doesn't say anything else, but turns his head for a kiss and leans a little further back, falling into the moment.

Afterwards they curl up together, not saying anything, enjoying the peace of early morning while they can. Kris feels drowsy and quiet, as he lazily traces Adam's freckles with his fingers; Adam's arm curled around his waist and stroking his hip. Kris tracks his fingers up, and presses his thumb into the notch at the base of Adam's throat, resting his head on Adam's shoulder. He closes his eyes, feeling Adam's pulse speeding away under his thumb, and he absently strokes at the spot, causing a small vibration as Adam hums a little.

Sighing, Kris reluctantly untangles himself and says, "We'd better get up. Get ready. I think Dad's left for the airport already. Come on."

Kris rolls off the bed and holds his hand out for Adam, who lets himself be dragged into the bathroom.

*********************************************

I stare at myself in the mirror, my shoulders shifting uncomfortably in the unfamiliar black suit that Kris's father had somehow found for me. Kris straightens my tie, links his fingers through mine and says, "Ready to go?" And I'm really not, but I say yes anyway.

Kris's father is already at the temple, having taken Father Mike and the Ba'Ka elder straight there from the airport. We sit in the back of Daniel's car, Kris's fingers still curled in mine, not talking.

The temple is a small one, made from blue marble. It looks a little bit like the Temple of the Ancients in my dream. We go in and there are a few scattered people. I see Father Mike, talking to Kris's father, and Kris's friends. The elder is someone I recognise from my childhood, and I start up the aisle when I feel Kris's hand on my arm. "Do you want me to come with you?" he asks softly.

Yes.

"No. I mean – you can't. The Shrouding is just an elder, and immediate family."

"Alright. I'll be here when you're done."

I head back up the aisle, and stop in front of the altar, made out of the same blue marble.

"Adam," the elder says, turning to me.

"Zha'sho," I say, her name coming back to me suddenly. She takes both of my hands in hers. "I was so sorry to hear about your father. He was – he was a good man once." I don't know what to say.

"Shall we get started? With just two of us, the Shrouding is going to take a while." She picks up a pair of boxes I hadn't noticed from the altar, and says something to the temple priest before heading towards the back. I look back at Kris, now sitting near the front with his father and brother, before following Zha'sho.

The back room is very simple, with just a large slab table. There's nothing on the walls. My father's body is laid out on the table. He's still in his prison uniform and for a moment, all I can do is stare. Apart from the awkward angle his neck is lying at, he looks like he's sleeping. Zha'sho puts the boxes on the floor, and opens one of them, taking out my father's Shroud.

"Oh," I say before I can stop myself, coming around to Zha'sho's side of the table. "I thought he must have sold this years ago." She hands it to me and I open it out. It's made from – dri-or – a cotton-like material. Woven into the fabric is my family history, going as far back as Ba'Ka had records. I run my fingers over the stories contained there.

This is what my father will be wrapped in before his body is cremated. Zha'sho turns and opens the other box. "This Shroud," she says, "Is yours. Your grandmother started weaving it before she died. There's – not much to it yet. But I think you should have it."

I put my father's Shroud on the table beside him and take the smaller piece of material, running my hand over it. "It's dri-or that your grandmother had hoarded on the transport ship. You will have to weave cotton into it, for the next stages in your life."

"I – thank you," I say, completely overwhelmed. Zha'sho takes the small piece of fabric from me, folds it carefully and replaces it in the box.

"Are you ready, Adam?" she asks softly, and I nod. Zha'sho goes into another small room, bringing back a basin of water, and washcloths. "You know the wai'sha-oh, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

"Then let's begin."

Zha'sho starts first, singing softly as she starts to remove the prison jumpsuit from my father's body, and I just listen at first to the slow, melancholy tune. Squeezing out one of the washcloths, I quietly join in on the second verse, and begin singing my father's spirit into the afterlife; over the horizon.

*********************************************

**A year later**

  
Kris looks around the apartment, stretching his arms above his head. They've been unpacking all day, and he's tired.

"How many books do you own?" he asks as Adam comes in with yet another box. Adam blinks, and stops to consider the question. "I don't know. Should I get rid of some?" He puts the box down and Kris shakes his head, stepping into the circle of Adam's arms, leaning his head on his chest, and closing his eyes. Ever since he took over managing the bookstore for Paula, it seemed like a day didn't pass when he didn't bring home at least one book.

"No, it's fine. It just feels like we're never going to be done unpacking." Adam rubs at the small of Kris's back and laughs as Matt, Danny, Anoop and Daniel come in with more boxes.

"There had better be beer and pizza after this," Matt says. "I'm not moving all your shit for nothing."

"Come on, come on," Anoop says, poking Matt in the chest. "Let's get this mess sorted. Otherwise we'll have Matt bitching all day."

Kris laughs and they all set to work, making order out of chaos. It still amuses Kris a little, that Adam had insisted they rent their own place after Kris graduated college instead of taking up his father's offer of a house. But the apartment's nice, he has to admit. Bigger than Adam's old place, anyway, and his father had said he found it "admirable" that Adam wanted them to stand on their own. "Admirable means I have to find a job," he'd said to Adam, teasing.

But it did feel good. Dr. Cowell had started a rehab center after his vaccine was accepted by the FDA, the caveat being that the humans who went through withdrawal at the center had to take the vaccine afterwards. And somehow, Kris had found himself working at the center as Dr. Cowell's personal assistant. Which could mean long days, and Dr. Cowell was a cranky boss at best, but Kris admitted to himself – and Adam – that it felt good, being involved with something that could make a difference.

Finally all of the boxes are unpacked, the bed is put up, and the TV is connected. Kris orders pizza, hands out beer, and curls himself in to Adam's side on the couch, sliding his hand under his shirt out of habit, and laying his hand over Adam's heart.

"Have you heard about the license?" Daniel asks, half-watching the movie that Matt and Danny are absorbed in.

Kris shakes his head. "No. Not yet. We're hoping in the next few days."

Daniel clinks his bottle with Kris's. "Here's hoping."

Adam slips off to read, finding it tiring to keep his eyes locked for so long, and Kris curls into the corner of the couch, where he can still feel Adam's warmth, letting himself doze. After a while he hears Daniel and the others leaving, and hauls himself up to say goodbye and thank you and no, Matt, a 6am wake-up call would not be welcome …

Finally they're gone and he heads into the bedroom, stopping at the doorway for a moment. Adam's sitting on top of the bed covers, his eyes unlocked as he reads. He's wearing the same shirt he's been wearing all day, and faded, dusty jeans. He looks up when he senses Kris's eyes on him, locks his own, smiles and holds out his hand.

Kris clambers up on to the bed beside him and says, "Want to break in the new mattress?" Adam's still laughing when he claims Kris's mouth for a kiss, but the laughter soon turns to moans and whispered curses in Ba'Ka'Ri as Kris spreads out and arches up under him, digging his fingers into Adam's hips. They fall asleep tangled together, with Kris's head on Adam's chest, trying to count his heartbeats.

Kris wakes up before the alarm and switches it off, snuggling back into Adam who is still wrapped around him. He dozes for a while, until he hears the doorbell, which wakes both of them up. Stumbling into a pair of pants and a t-shirt, Kris answers the door, and in a daze signs for the official looking envelope.

When he sees the official stamp from the Hybrid Bureau, he wakes up properly.

Taking the envelope back into the bedroom he gets on the bed and sits cross-legged, facing Adam, who mirrors his position. "What is it?"

"It's from the Bureau. I think – it's about the license. Here – you open it."

Adam takes the envelope and squeezes one of Kris's hands briefly. He tears it open and takes out a single piece of paper, then looks inside. "There's something else in here – the rings. The rings are in here." Adam tips the envelope up and two solid silver rings tumble out on to the bedspread. Kris stares at them, dazed. The rings mean their application was granted, and are a visible sign of the legality – now – of their relationship. Adam picks up both rings and lays them in the palm of his hand, looking at Kris, dazed.

Kris takes one and looks at it. It's plain, solid silver, and it feels heavy in his hand. There's a Ba'Ka'Ri symbol engraved on the outside which means - "Union," Adam says.

"It means union."

They both call in sick to work.


End file.
